Begin Again
by smeegal61
Summary: One Shot AU. Eight months after Annabeth and Luke break up, Annabeth goes on her first date with Percy. Based on Taylor Swift's 'Begin Again'.


**Another one shot, this time AU. All human. Inspired by Begin Again by Taylor Swift. I've changed some details but I've kept most of it the same, including the style. In the song, she only ever uses pronouns rather than names, so in this one shot ****I = Annabeth, He = Luke and You = Percy**** in the narrative. If there are other characters, I may have to use names or something but I will use those pronouns for the main characters. It might be different in the dialogue, I don't know yet. Kind of OOC. Sorry if the beginning is boring but Annabeth is supposed to be hung up on Luke. Anyway, read, enjoy and remember: Rick Riordan owns all!**

Eight months.

I twirl in the mirror and wonder whether I look alright for a casual coffee date, if the skirt makes it look too formal, like I'm trying too hard. My hands twist nervously in front of me as I study my reflection, golden curls escaping rebelliously from my ponytail, and doubt whether I really should be doing this anyway. It's been eight months since my last date and that had obviously gone _so well _(anybody notice the sarcasm?) Everyone had told me I should move on at the time, they think I already have but I know I'm still hung up on him. I still remember how it felt when my heart beat faster as he walked past me, or that smile that I could have sworn he saved just for me. I remember how he would occasionally bring me presents for no reason at all, how his voice sounded as he whispered in my ear that he loved me, how his lips tasted when he kissed me. I'm pretty sure I'll never find anything like that again.

Just as I'm about ready to send a text to call the whole thing off, my best friend knocks on the door and lets herself in. Wolf whistling ensues. "Hey hey, look at my sexy Annabeth. He won't be able to take his eyes off - what are you doing?" She leans over and snatches the phone out of my hand just as I'm about to press 'send'. She quickly scans the text and shakes her head at me, frowning. "No, no, no, no, no, no and no! You are going on this date Annabeth! You're not going to let him stop you from doing this. Not when he's taken so much away from you already."

"Look, I'm sorry, but I don't think I'm ready for this yet." I pull my hair out of its ponytail.

"If you wait until you're completely comfortable going out you'll be single for the rest of your life. Now I'm confiscating your mobile while you choose some shoes. I'll give it back to you just before you go out the door," she says in a tone brokering no argument, before turning on her heel and leaving. Shrugging as I realise there is no way out of this, I start to rummage around at the bottom of my wardrobe for pair of half decent flats.

My hand hits a pair of gorgeous red stilettos that would match my top perfectly, concealed under a mountain of footwear. I dig them out and slip them on. I had kind of forgotten about these, despite their perfect fit. High heels had always been a love of mine, making me feel confident and powerful when I wore them but he had never been particularly tall so when I had worn heels, I ended up being the same height as him. As a particularly insecure member of the male species, he liked having power over me and being the same height made us seem like equals. To exercise said power, he had demanded I didn't wear them and I had acquiesced, wearing only flats for the period of our year long relationship. Since then, I had spent every evening either working or mooching on the sofa in a pair of trackies, feeling sorry for myself and eating pizza. I had had little chance to wear a nice pair of high heels.

Taking a deep breath and one final glance in the mirror, I stride out of my bedroom and towards the front door, grabbing my iPod on the way and putting it in my handbag. "Thalia! I'm leaving now. Can I have my phone back yet?" My rather unladylike bellow reduces in volume as she comes into view. "Thank Thals." She hands me the phone as she pushes me out the door. "Alright! I'm going. I'm not going to run away, nor am I planning to be late. I'll see you later - cook me some dinner and I might give you some details!"

…

By the time I'm at street level, I'm already plugged into my earphones and listening to music. Christina Perri's 'Jar of Hearts' comes on and I sigh, realising that almost everything I do reminds me of him. I remember one time in the car this had come on the radio and he had changed stations almost immediately. I asked him why. "Why?" he had said. "Because it's depressing and all she does is boast about how she so strong now she won't give in. I don't get why anyone would like it." I had kept quiet at the time, of course, but I remember disagreeing with him in my heart, how I had actually cried the first time I had listened to it. And that was before my heart was broken. Now I identified with it more than ever.

Shaking my head, I think about the task ahead. The café is only a block away from my apartment so it doesn't take long to get there but I use the time to reacquaint myself with me shoes and focus on not falling over or walking into others. Sure enough, I find myself opposite the cute little coffee shop without incident in no time. I'm about to cross the busy street when I see you and stop.

You sit at the window, completely oblivious to my (and many other girls') stare. You're doodling on a sketchpad, sitting still for longer than I've ever seen you sit still before. That isn't what makes me stop though. It's the fact that you're actually there on time, early even, waiting for me. I had been expecting to have to go in, order and then wait for half an hour like I always had to with him. It's a nice surprise that shouldn't really be a surprise at all. He has ruined my dating experience for the rest of eternity.

I take a few minutes to study you, the poor guy who has the honour of trying to piece me back together. Your hair is messy as always, the tips of it brushing your ears and it's obvious you never brush it, choosing instead to rake you fingers through it and sweep it back any old how. I'd love to say it looks awful and that your nervous habit of ruffling the shorter hairs at the nape of you neck makes it look even worse but it seems you have the curse of attractiveness, that you could do anything (apart from get a mohican perhaps) and it would make you look good. Once again, I wonder what on earth you are doing on a date with me, a nerdy Californian with a broken heart.

When I had been dating him, you and I had barely known each other. My best friend is your childhood friend, as your fathers had owned a company together and you, along with 'death breath', had been forced to spend time with one another. Despite such a contrived beginning, deep relationships began within you three, who are now at the top of the school and known as the 'Big Three'. Cheesy, much?

Anyway, we had spoken occasionally but never enough to claim to be more than acquaintances. That all changed the night I broke up with him. We had been at a party and I had lost track of him. After 20 minutes of hanging around on my own, I had stumbled around the house, asking after him. In the end I was pointed towards a room who's closed door concealed him, half naked and all over the school's biggest slut, cheating on me. To make matters worse, they had just looked at me, she had mumbled something about that if I wasn't going to put out, I had no right to complain, and went straight back to what they were doing.

Looking back on it, I really shouldn't have been so surprised. Apparently each of those presents he had given me for 'no reason' were actually given each time he started a relationship with a new girl. That equates to about 15 affairs while being with me for a year. If it didn't hurt so much, I'd be impressed in a horrified sort of way.

After finding out about his infidelity, I yelled that we were over (while he was still kissing said slag) and ran out the room, into the one opposite. With floods of tears coming down my face, I curled up in the corner and let myself sob… Until you made your presence known in the room I had previously thought was empty.

"_Hey, are you okay… Annabeth? Annabeth, what's wrong?" I look up and find you staring at me in concern. I stand, wiping my eyes quickly and try and pretend as if nothing's wrong even though it's obvious you just saw me bawling on the floor._

"_I'm fine. S…Sorry if I disturbed you. I'll just be leaving." You grab my arm and pull me back from the door and onto the bed next to you._

"_Don't leave. You're obviously not fine and you weren't disturbing me in the least. I just wanted to get away from the music. I can't dance to save my life but I just can't resist JT and I didn't want to embarrass myself." You're obviously trying to make me smile but the closest you're going to get is the watery grimace I aim your way. "Okay, something is definitely wrong. Do you want me to get Luke so you can have him kiss it out of you?" Just the name has me snivelling again. "Okay… Luke is not a good topic. Right. Umm…" You pull me back towards the plump pillows on the bed, propping me up and then sling your arm round me. I stiffen. "What? Okay, this is a secret that you can never, ever reveal but I, Percy Jackson, like to snuggle!" I almost giggle in amongst my sobs. "Come on, indulge me. Now, you are going to start at the top and tell me everything that is wrong with your life, then we are going to eat chocolate and watch sappy films. Thalia's going to be living through me vicariously tonight and she would kill me if I didn't play the role of the perfect girlfriend!"_

And I had. I confided in you like no-one before and thus had started our actual friendship. You actually hung around with us rather than some of the other popular kids (like him, the slag etc). We got to know one another better over time and although we were never 'besties', we were pretty close. We started this long running joke that you would start dating again when I did (for as long as I had known you, you had never had a girlfriend, despite not lacking for applicants. You said you thought they were all too fake but I think you were just hung up on someone). Every morning you would ask me whether I was ready yet and I would give you a different stupid excuse each day, becoming more preposterous every time. Then this happened about a week ago:

_I dig through my locker, desperately trying to find my maths book for 1__st__ period. Just as I manage to grab hold it - "Anniebell!" - you call my name, distracting me long enough to cause a landslide of books to come crashing down, burying the one I need once again._

"_Jackson?" I yell back before beginning my excavation anew. We do this every morning without fail, so I should really be used to it by now. The other students are, having given up on giving us more than the occasional odd look long ago._

"_You ready to start yet?" As this sounds like an innocent inquiry as to whether I'm ready to go to tutor yet, rather than the reality in which you are asking whether I'm ready to start dating or not, we are both happy for this to be yelled across the hallway too. I start to think of a new excuse and come up blank. In the past it's been everything from 'I'm too old' to 'My pet pink miniature elephant wouldn't like it'. I seem to have used up all sane possibilities (and a few insane ones) and begin to wonder what would happen if I said yes. Would you freak out? Would you laugh it off? Would you ignore me for the rest of the year? I hear your footsteps nearing me and decide to find out._

"_As I'll ever be." I try to say it as calmly as possible, but loud enough that you can hear it without having to second guess yourself. You immediately stop a few feet away from me. I try to dissipate some of my nervous energy by searching casually through my locker. It doesn't help._

"_You sure?" You sound strange, a mixture of suspicion and curiosity colouring your voice. I nod, unable to say anything intelligible. A second, then your feet fly over the remaining distance between us, stopping just behind me. Your hands land on my hips and you press your torso lightly against my back, holding me in place but giving me a chance to leave if I want. Despite having been friends with you, a very touchy feely person, for almost the last eight months, I'm still unused to such affection in a platonic way and have to suppress a shiver at the feeling of your breath on my hair._

_You lean down (you're over half a foot taller than me) to whisper in my ear, your lips just brushing the shell of it. "You and me, next Wednesday, 5:00, Caesar's Café." You lift your head, obviously having said your piece, and I turn my head and look up at you. You smile, your eyes twinkling, the twist of your lips slightly more smug and a touch less nervous than one would expect in such a situation. You take a small step back, removing the warmth of your hands from my hips, making it feel as though there are handprints left behind. A few more slow steps back, still smiling and then you turn and weave your way through the crowd. I turn to face my locker once again, thoroughly stunned._

_You just asked me on a date._

Just to check I wasn't hallucinating, I had spoken with our mutual best friend and she confirmed, after a lot of wolf whistling and mysterious 'about time too's, that yes, you had in fact asked me out. I suppose I had kind of expected it to be awkward after that, but you acted just like normal. I followed your lead and there was no real change to our easy relationship, other than people asking us whether we were fighting because our previous conspicuous conversations in the morning had stopped. We never mentioned our date to anyone else or each other, apart from at lunch today, when you had stopped me and said gently: "See you later, yeah?" I had nodded dumbly and haven't seen you since.

You finally notice me across the street when you look up from your sketching and a wide grin spreads across your face. You wave and I finally decide to go and join you. Dodging the traffic, I duck into the cool, shaded coffee shop and make my way over to where you're now standing. I'm given a huge bear hug that lasts barely a moment and that leaves me missing the salty scent that always seems to pervade the air around you, before you guide me over to a seat and help me in. I smile up at you, wondering why I ever fell for him. I had once known the way a girl was _supposed_ to be treated but he had never been gentleman and I found myself growing accustomed to being the one to organise dates and soothe his ego. Now, though, with you smiling down at me, I wonder how I ever settled for less and treasure the fact that someone does still want to care for me, even if I'm still unsure as to whether this is a pity date or not.

"What would you like me to get for you?" You stand there, as if a waiter, ready to take my order.

My voice is lightly teasing. "No! I can get and pay for my own food."

"No doubt you _can_. However, I _will _be getting and paying for both of us. This is a date. I know my place." You give me a confident little smile, which I return before giving in and asking for a coffee and an apricot Danish. You return after a few minutes to find me about to open your sketchbook to look at what was so engrossing to you before. You grab the paper from me as quickly as possible without snatching and hurriedly stuff it in your bag. Looking up, I note with shock a hint of pink tinting your angular cheekbones that I don't think I've ever seen before on your face. Before I can comment on it, you start to talk. "One black coffee and one apricot Danish, as ordered. Anything else madam?" I smile, shaking my head and decide to let it go - besides, even the most confident of us has secrets and insecurities. I have no right to go and demand you tell me everything.

By the time I finish thinking all this, you have sat down and I have missed the question you just asked me. "What? Huh? Sorry, I was away with the fairies." You laugh at this, which I smile timidly at; simply grateful you're not angry. If this had been with him, he would have had a go at me and then made me feel guilty for not treating him as important in my life just because I zoned out once. You repeat your question, asking about a school project due in next week.

That isn't the only time you laugh. It's a nice change - he never thought I was funny and rather I kept my mouth shut and just became a pretty little thing on his arm. Almost every other sentence I say makes you chuckle and when I choke on my coffee and spray it everywhere, this deep thunder of a laugh rumbles in your chest as you smirk behind your hand, before you can't hold it back anymore and fall apart laughing on your chair. We attract many stares from the other customers (although I'm not sure whether it's because you're so _damn attractive _or whether we're just making too much noise) but you never seem to notice, throwing your smiles and snickers around as easily as a toddler with a pramful of sweets. It's kind of adorable how oblivious you are.

At one point you tell me a particularly amusing story including your mother, jam and a rubber duck and I let out an extremely embarrassing snort before hiding my face in shame. This leads to me almost dipping my hair in the dregs of my coffee which you quickly move out the way. Leaning over the table, you tuck the tendril behind my ear, which in turn makes me realise my hair is down - I hate it like this, a big, frizzy, curly mess so I move to put it back in its usual ponytail. However, you put your hand on my arm, halting my movements with a simple touch. "Leave it. You look beautiful with it like that." I blush but you give no indication that just gave me any such complement, starting a new conversation, asking me about my music tastes as to leave no room for any awkwardness to move in.

We find out that we both share a love of James Taylor, shocked to find out that anyone we know had actually heard of the singer. We start to argue playfully and agree to go home and find out who really has the most records by him and that whoever loses must listen to the worst song the winner can think of. It's stupid but you bring out the childish side in me, reminding me that life isn't all heartbreak and work.

I realise I am having great time, much better than I had expected to. I had only ever enjoyed dates with him at the beginning when he still made an effort and even then it was never as… easy as this. I always had to listen to stuff about his life, his friends and be interested in him, but he never returned the favour. I can see now exactly what I was missing as you ask me questions and look interested in what I have to say. You make me feel cherished. As something I'm not used to, it makes me almost want to hide from all the attention. You rouse me from these thoughts. "Annabeth, you ok?" I nod and smile. "Good. You've just been quite quiet and I thought something might have happened." I smile at your concern, reassuring you there's nothing to worry about. I offer no explanation though as I know mentioning him will only worry you more.

Before long we're finished and a waitress hovers nearby, rather unsubtly letting us know that she wants us to clear out. You hold the door and offer to walk to me home. "If you want to. I live quite nearby, just down that way." We set off and I remark how you obviously know how to be a gentleman. You laugh again. There's a moment of silence and I open my mouth to fill it, to say how it's a nice change and how he never used to do anything like that for me. Before I can say anything though, you interrupt.

"Yeah, blame that on my mum. Every Christmas it's tradition in our family to watch chick flicks. Ugh, I don't know how it started, but I've probably seen more than most girls our age and every time we watch them, Mum's like 'There you go Percy. Make sure you treat a girl like that.'" Your impression makes her sounds like an eighty year old woman on helium but it makes me laugh anyway. "It's soooooo embarrassing. And she wonders why I never bring friends round when she acts like that." The affection you have for her is obvious.

"Don't worry. I won't tell anyone you're a mama's boy." You scowl at me, pushing me away before grabbing my hand and dragging me back. You don't release my fingers for the rest of the short walk home.

By the time we reach my apartment, I still haven't worked out whether this is a pity date or not. You're the most popular guy in school, with a group of girls, large enough to count as a fan club, desperate to go out with you. You're tall, kind of attractive (aka, _unbelievably_ sexy), sweet, confident and head of the swim team. Even the way you fail at school is adorable. You could have any girl and have never shown any inclination of having a relationship with me before this. I sort of suspect Thalia of having asked you to take me on a date when I said I was ready, just to ease me in or to make me feel as though I'm not unwanted. However amazing I thought this date was, I still don't know whether you asked me because you like me or not, so I scheme a way to drop it in conversation as we stand near my door.

"Thanks for today. I know it was a pity date and all, but it still was one of the -"

"Wait, what? Pity date?" You're spluttering, losing your cool composure for the first time ever, your tone incredulous.

"I thought Thalia put you up to this."

"No! She doesn't even know - or at least I didn't tell her. Why would you think that?"

"You've never even mentioned before that you wanted to get to know me like that. I thought you only wanted to be my friend."

You swear under your breath and turn away; running your hand over your face before looking back at me, anguish in your eyes. "Was I really that good at hiding it? I thought it was obvious every second of every day how much I wanted you. How much I wanted to hold you, to kiss you, to be able to call myself your boyfriend. You really couldn't see that?"

"No! You're Percy Jackson! One of the Big Three, the most popular guy in school. I'm just plain ol' Annabeth Chase. Why would you want me when you could have so many other, better girls?"

You explode. "Because there are none! You're beautiful, gorgeous, sexy. You turn heads as we walk down the street. I had to glare at so many guys we passed today just because they were staring at my girl. You're smart, even with dyslexia you get the highest grades and you work so hard. You're funny and loving and loyal and kind and so many other amazing things. You're so out of my league it's ridiculous and I couldn't believe it when you actually showed up today!"

I stare at him, stunned. "You… like me?" You seem to deflate.

"Yeah, I like you. Have as long as I've known you but you were always with Luke and I knew better than to try and ruin your happiness. Of course, now I know how he treated you I wish I had but there you go. I didn't let myself near you because I knew I would trip up somehow. And then you broke up with him and stumbled into that room and it was like a sign. I don't know, maybe it was stupid but every new thing I found out about you made me like you more. Then last week you said you were ready and my heart stopped beating. I knew how other guys looked at you, how they talked about you in the changing rooms. I knew if I left it too long, you'd be snapped up and I'd have missed my chance, so I asked.

And today… today has been amazing. It all went so well and I thought… I thought maybe you liked me back. Well, obviously I was wrong. You thought this was a _pity_ date. Sorry if I messed up our friendship." You look so miserable and you start to walk away but I stop you pretty soon.

"I never said I didn't like you." Your head snaps round. "You were always so… unattainable, I didn't even consider you an option but yeah, I'm pretty sure I more than like you. I -" I trail off, silenced by the intense look in your eyes, and shiver as you slowly walk back towards me. Wordlessly, you stand in front of me, closer than before and raise your hands to either side of my face. Gently stroking my cheekbones, you lean down to rest your forehead against mine.

As if to brace yourself, you take a shaky breath in before leaning down slightly further and gently pressing your lips to mine. It's by no means my first kiss (that honour went to - who cares?) and it's nothing more than a simple pressing of lips but it's one of the best I've ever had. You put so much emotion into such a small action that I can't help but feel the _desperationhopewanting_ that lies behind everything that's just been said.

You draw back quite soon and I can't help but feel disappointment at the loss of contact. A little smile spreads across your lips that doesn't accurately reflect the extent of the overflowing happiness shown openly in your eyes. Almost shyly you step away, removing your gentle hands from my face before retreating in the same fashion as last week when you asked me out. You don't say goodbye, which I don't mind as you leave me as astonished and speechless as you did when you walked away from me standing by my locker.

Taking a seat on the step of the porch, I take stock of myself. My lips tingle, my face feels cold without his hands on it and my heart pounds. Shakily, I run my hand through my hair and smile. I watch those feelings, the feelings that I thought I would never have again after him, begin again.

For you.

**Eh, it's alright. Please review and let me know what you think. Feel free to ask any questions - I may have used some English slang (kind of hard to tell what is colloquial when you use it every day) so sorry if that made it confusing. Thanks for reading! Oh, and I hope those who got their GCSE and A level results got what they wanted. I know it's been a while but I just wanted to say that xx**


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